Tryst
by DireAfterglow
Summary: They all do it, and each and every one of them knows it. But not one of them ever talks about it.' Tension between the Organization XIII members and the desperate results.


Disclaimer: I could only wish I ever owned anything more than a pathetic plot...

.:Tryst:.

They all do it, and each and every one of them knows it. But not one of them ever talks about it.

Nobody questions the sounds at night, the echoing cries of pleasure and pain. They don't question the awkward positions, the brushes past in the hallways, the strange marks on necks and lips, the glances of knowing eyes.

They just don't question it. They don't ask and they don't tell. But they all know.

Each one of them knows just what it's like to take a taste from Zexion's lips, the feeling of Lexaeus' strong and strangely gentle hands, the way Vexen's body is always so cold under their palms and the sharpness of Xaldin's teeth.

They all know what it's like to feel Marluxia's hair tangled up between their fingertips, how Demyx flushes to his ears each and every time, how Axel's sharp hip bones always leave bruises and how a smirk twists up Larxene's lips every time she comes.

They've seen how Xigbar's talented fingers know how to work a body, the way Luxord holds back and always brings his partner off first, heard the primal howls of Saïx's pleasure and looked into the brutal stare of Xemnas' eyes until it made their chest ache.

They all do it, and they just can't help it. Their bodies can't remember emotion, but still register the most basic and instinctive acts. Their bodies ache, ache for more than their hollowed forms could ever accomplish together, but they all also know that being with somebody is better than being nobody.

It defines them as who they are, because feeling pleasure and pain is enough to still make them human. They lose care of who they're with, find themselves tangled in a pair of arms and loose themselves in the most innate actions, thrusting hips and claiming mouths and feeling more real in ecstasy than isolation.

They know each other more intimately than they're willing to admit. They learn the habits of their emotionless, vacant bodies, how sensitive they can be at the expanses of pale abdomen or the soft dips of a rib, the pearled curves of their spine or the delicate skin on a hip. It becomes a memorization game, bodies knowing more and feeling more, feeling something to fill the void.

Feeling something is so much better than feeling nothing, and they all know it, but they never say it. Ever since it started it was an unspoken taboo, no words other than soft, meaningless, stuttered cries during the acts themselves. Anyone feeling it, seeing it, hearing it, ignores it as soon as it ends, as soon as that wonderful buzzing of nerves settles and all they can remember is being empty, and soon after look to fill the cavity again.

Axel brought it up once, an ignorant brag of comment that had all other voices falling hushed and Xemnas' cold eyes narrowing. Axel was surely punished, they all heard his voice echoing through the hallways as Xemnas taught his lesson, leaving staring out at the world through bruised eyes and the rest of them silent.

They would continue on.

Xaldin kisses Xigbar so hard that their lips bleed through their grins.

Marluxia glares up at Larxene even as he's kneeled between her thighs.

Demyx wonders in a breathless voice what love is like just as Saïx pushes roughly inside.

Lexaeus runs his hands over Vexen's chilled skin, feeling him warm up against his palms.

Zexion questions inwardly if he'll ever get the smell of Luxord off of him.

Xemnas claws at Axel's hips and glances to their cold moon outside.

They would build whatever bonds they could without emotion, using the physical to justify everything they lacked. Kissing and touching and caressing in fond memory of the emotions they only felt the second-hand resonance of, biting and scratching and crying out in their frustrations as they wanted what they never could have.

.:END:.

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Author note: Written on a whim, so it's not the strongest, smuttiest thing you'll ever read, but once I got the idea in my head I had to write it out. It came out angstier than I meant it to, but...shrug

I'm thinking about adding continuing PWP chapters that tie into this, that will probably be added on as chapters to this actual story. Otherwise, this story stands alone.

Please comment whether or not you hate it, love it, or think it needs some fixing!


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